[ A beat passes and Hei drifts to her side, hip against the counter, arms across his chest. Most of the meal is done -- all that's left is for the lobsters to redden, the pears to soak up the wine, and the stew to boil, before he whips up a dip sauce in under ten minutes. He doesn't say anything, just watches her work with a quiet consideration. She's gone inward again, and in turn, he's all watchfulness. ]
[ Body-language is something he reads very well, but anything involving gravitas or kindness often leaves him at a loss. He's only just getting comfortable with the brief touches that are string-free and patient but that he's never been good with, because why would he be? They served no function in his life back home. ]
[ Eventually, as the stew bubbles, he covers it with a lid, then asks plainly, ] Do you miss them? Your parents?
[ No angles or agendas -- yet. He's just mildly curious. ]
no subject
[ Body-language is something he reads very well, but anything involving gravitas or kindness often leaves him at a loss. He's only just getting comfortable with the brief touches that are string-free and patient but that he's never been good with, because why would he be? They served no function in his life back home. ]
[ Eventually, as the stew bubbles, he covers it with a lid, then asks plainly, ] Do you miss them? Your parents?
[ No angles or agendas -- yet. He's just mildly curious. ]